


Siren Song

by Kenkanwrite



Category: Left 4 Dead (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Smut, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, hopefully but realistically maybe not, mermaid au, mermaid!Ellis, mermaid!Rochelle
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2018-01-22
Packaged: 2019-02-22 10:20:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13164900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kenkanwrite/pseuds/Kenkanwrite
Summary: After almost drowning in a storm, Nick finds himself in the care of an overly friendly mermaid.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Heyo! This is the first long fic I'll be attempting in a long time, so I'm a little bit rusty. I've never written for L4D2 either, so hopefully nobody's too OOC.
> 
> As of right now I don't have a set update schedule, because they tend to not work well for me. I will say that I'm going to try to update once a month at the very least, although hopefully it'll be more frequent than that.

Ellis had set out intending to do his duties – he really, _really_ had. Leda had given him a simple patrol route, knowing very well his unfortunate tendency to get distracted. He'd been doing pretty well at first, occasionally darting after colorful fish that swam too close, but staying on track for the most part. Normally he might have shirked his patrol in favor of going to the surface or visiting the nearby village – patrol's were mostly a formality, as very few threats came as close to the coast as his pod did. Rochelle had given him another lecture last night, though, about responsibility and humans and keeping himself out of danger. The guilt at worrying her was enough to keep him focused – mostly.

Even so, he couldn't help but pause when he heard the tell-tale groan of a ship in the distance. He drifted slowly in the direction of the sound, torn. He wanted to go investigate; it had been storming all day, and if the ship sank he would probably be able to scavenge something interesting from it. Rochelle's speech echoed in his head, though, and guilt churned in his stomach.

The groan vibrated through the water again, and Ellis drifted further in its direction. It wouldn't hurt for him to check it out for a little while. Chances were none of the others would even notice if he came back from patrol a little late. They would probably just assume he'd gotten a bit distracted (which wouldn't necessarily be wrong).

Reassured in his decision, he set off in the direction of the sounds, moving quickly with excitement. There were a few shipwrecks in his pod's territory, but they had long been picked clean. Ellis still visited them occasionally, mostly out of boredom and curiosity. His pod only took things they deemed useful, and oftentimes left the more interesting items behind.

It didn't take long for him to find the ship, rocking dangerously in the choppy sea waves. Ellis stayed far beneath it, wary of the storm happening on the surface. If the ship _did_ sink, he wanted ample time to get out of the way of it and anything that might fall off.

A wave smashed into its side and it swayed precariously. A few dark shapes came tumbling overboard, and Ellis darted back and forth excitedly, watching as some of them – barrels, by the looks of it – sank quickly to the ocean floor. He started swimming towards them, glancing up to check that nothing else was falling, and noticed something floating higher towards the surface.

He looked between the floating object and the barrels. The barrels probably weren't going to move; if they were heavy enough to sink, then they wouldn't be taken by the current. The floating thing, however, was bobbing with the waves, quickly moving further and further away.

Ellis swam up towards it, albeit rather slowly, still nervous about the storm and the ship (although the latter had moved a good distance away now). As he came closer he realized that the shape was a human. He swam faster, coming to a halt a short distance away. He circled the human warily, noting that his arms were tied behind his back. He wasn't moving, and Ellis swam closer to wrap his arms around the man's torso and pull him up to the surface.

He took a deep breath before breaching, struggling against the choppy waves and icy winds. He couldn't tell if the man was alive – didn't know _how_ to tell. He only knew that humans needed air, and that they died if they were underwater too long. The man had only been under for a few moments...was that long enough? Ellis frowned and shifted the human in his arms. For as much time as he spent around them, he didn't know much about how they worked.

He ducked back underwater to breath, struggling to keep the man above at the same time. He wasn't sure what to do; if the man _was_ alive, he would definitely die without Ellis' help. If he wasn't...well, Ellis would rather assume the best.

He breached again just in time for a wave to sweep over them. His stomach twisted nervously as he fought to keep them above water. The man was going to drown at this rate. If it hadn't been storming Ellis was sure he'd be able to keep him afloat – but it was, and he wracked his brain for any ideas.

It came to him suddenly, and he would have thrown his arms up in excitement if he hadn't been holding the man. There were caves along the coast, ones that weren't completely submerged even during high tide. He could put the man in one of them until...well, he wasn't sure what exactly he would do afterwards, but he was sure he'd figure it out.

Towing the man to the caves was a long and arduous task. By the time they had reached them Ellis' back and tail were burning with exertion. He was grateful, when he entered one, for the break from the pounding waves.

The cave was too dark for him to see properly, although the gentle blue glow of his skin and tail helped to light up the area. It wasn't much, but it was enough for him to see a ledge rising out of the water against the back wall of the cave. He swam backwards slowly until his back hit the ledge and he turned, grunting as he struggled to lift the human onto it. It stretched back six or seven feet, and he didn't think the man was in any danger of falling off.

Ellis slipped beneath the water and took a moment to simply breath. His entire body ached, but the sense of relief he felt at managing to bring the man here made up for it.

He took a deep breach and emerged from the water, pulling himself up onto the platform with the man. He poked at him gently, frowning nervously when he didn't move. He pulled himself closer, pressing his ear to the man's chest.

Faintly, he heard a heartbeat. Unwittingly, he let out the breath he'd been holding. He quickly maneuvered himself back into the water, cursing his thoughtlessness. Although, he supposed he would have run out of air eventually anyway.

He swam slow circles around the cave, wondering what he should do next. The man would be safe here, for a while at least. He wouldn't have to worry about drowning, or predators, or any of the other seafolk bothering him. Not that Ellis' pod _would_ bother him; they had strict rules against hurting humans. Interacting with them otherwise wasn't against the rules, but it was frowned upon. _Very_ frowned upon, Ellis could say from experience (not that it ever stopped him).

It occurred to him that the man would need food. He paused his circling, a frown creasing his face. He knew humans ate fish – he saw the ones from the village catching them from their boats. He'd tried to tip one, once, so that he could take some of the little sharp shiny things and the bags with holes. It hadn't turned out well; the man had hit him with a stick and yelled until Ellis had swam away. It wasn't like he'd been trying to _hurt_ the man or anything. He'd seen humans tip their boats before, and they'd always been able to swim. He had only wanted a couple of the shiny things to –

He was getting sidetracked. Ellis shook his head and resumed circling, trying to reorganize his thoughts. Food. The man was going to need food. It wouldn't be too hard to find him some. Ellis could catch some of the little silver fish easily. They didn't taste very good, but they were slow and stupid and humans caught them all the time.

He popped out of the water again and peeked over the ledge. The man was still unconscious, his chest rising and falling shallowly. Ellis watched him for a moment, entranced. He'd never been so close to a human before, never been able to touch one or simply watch them _be_.

He reached out slowly, fingers ghosting over the man's cheek. The skin was rough with stubble beneath the pads of his fingers, and he hummed thoughtfully. He'd always found it odd how humans grew hair on their faces and arms. He wondered if they grew it anywhere else?

He plucked at the man's shirt, wrinkling his nose at the rough blue material. He didn't understand how humans could cover themselves with such uncomfortable things. Sure, some of them were kind of pretty, but was it worth the awful sensations they probably caused? He didn't think so.

As he lifted the shirt, the man shifted and groaned. Ellis froze, looking up just in time to see the man blinking awake, dark eyes reflecting his own blue glow back at him.

 

*******

 

Nick came to consciousness slowly, his head and arms throbbing. He didn't open his eyes right away, instead focusing on breathing and wondering just how the hell he'd managed to survive jumping from Freddie's ship.

When he'd thrown himself overboard he had fully accepted the fact that he was going to die. Even if it hadn't been storming, there was no way he would have been able to swim to safety with his arms bound behind his back. He simply preferred the idea of drowning over being keel-hauled.

That, and he really, really liked the idea of robbing Freddie of the satisfaction of killing him.

So, then, how was he alive?

He didn't have much time to ponder his situation as he felt something pulling at his shirt. He tried to roll away, groaning at the pain that lanced up his arms. He gave up on trying to move, instead opening his eyes to confront whatever (or _who_ ever) was touching him.

It took his eyes a moment to adjust to the light, an odd blue hue that made him wonder if it was nighttime. It didn't take long for him to home in on the source of the light – which also happened to be the source of the tugging on his shirt.

He swore loudly when he saw the _thing_ staring at him, scrabbling back away from it, ignoring the screeching pain in his arms. The creature flinched back, fins along its arms flaring wide, and the blue markings on its skin glowed brighter as it ducked beneath the water.

It circled beneath the surface, glowing intensely, and he moved back further until his back hit a wall. His chest was heaving with barely contained panic. He yanked at the ropes holding his wrists together, to no avail.

Of course it had to be a fucking siren. He'd somehow managed to survive going overboard in a storm, and now that thing was going to drown him. Or maul him, based on the claws he'd gotten a glimpse of.

He looked around, hoping to find something to free himself with, and scowled when he realized that the cave was almost pitch black with the fish underwater. He resumed pulling at the ropes, hoping that they would somehow break.

The cave brightened again and Nick froze, looking up at the creature. It was staring at him, hovering at the lip of the platform, looking almost...hurt? Or maybe like it wanted to drag him underwater and eat him; Nick wasn't entirely sure.

For a few moments they simply stared at one another, the only sounds in the cave being his own breathing and the gentle rush of waves against the walls.

The thing in front of him opened its mouth, and Nick blanched at the sharp teeth inside.

“Hhh...help, you.” It said. Its voice rose and fell in odd, almost musical tones.

It tapped its own chest before pointing towards Nick's. He continued to stare at it, mouth hanging open. He'd heard countless stories of sirens, and none of them had involved the things talking. Singing, sure, but having a casual conversation? Offering to _help_ someone? No. The only thing they were known to help with was taking someone to an early, watery grave.

When it reached for his foot he kicked at it. It pulled back quickly, but didn't sink beneath the water as it had before. Instead it let out a string of whistles and clicks, insistently gesturing towards Nick once again.

“Help...” It repeated, this time seeming slightly unsure.

Nick scoffed and rolled his eyes, though he wasn't sure if the thing would be able to see. He leaned forward, only wincing slightly at the ache in his shoulders.

“If you think you're gonna get me over there with that shit, you've got another thing coming. I'm not stupid.” He hissed.

Or maybe he was. He _was_ talking to it, after all. Granted, it had talked to him first, but just because it knew how to say a couple of words didn't mean it actually understood them. It was probably all just a ploy to get him to let his guard down so it could kill him.

Well, he wasn't falling for it. The thing could float over there and make sad faces and say “help” all it wanted. He hadn't made it this far to die to a siren. It would get tired of messing with him and give up eventually, he was sure. And then he could figure out a way to get his hands free and swim to land. Or something...he would figure it out. He'd survived worse.

The thing finally seemed to understand that he wanted nothing to do with it as it backed away from the ledge and swam to the entrance of the cave. It paused for a moment and looked back at him before leaving, taking its odd light with it and leaving Nick in total darkness.

 

*******

 

Ellis paced outside the cave for a while. The storm had passed over, and the surface water was back to easily navigable waves. He was surprised to see that the sun had almost set over the horizon; he'd been gone much longer than he thought.

He was perplexed by the human's reaction. He tried to help, and what did he get? Kicked – almost. He couldn't really blame the man, though. If he had woken up in a strange place with someone hovering over him, he probably wouldn't react well either.

He needed to win the man's trust, somehow. He'd already been planning on bringing him food, but judging by the way he'd reacted earlier, it would take more than that. Perhaps freeing his hands? Ellis had seen him trying (unsuccessfully) to pull the ropes apart. One of the knives he had at the trench would probably work. He could hunt down a few fish on his way back, too. He grinned and sped off in the direction of the trench, ignoring the way his muscles protested, his former optimism renewed.

 

*******

 

The trench had just come into view when something slammed into Ellis' side. He yelped, startled, and was just turning to fend off whatever was attacking him when he caught a familiar flash of red.

Rochelle floated next to him, looking both relieved and angry. She punched him in the arm lightly before slamming into him again for a hug. He returned the embrace tentatively, guilt coursing through him.

“Where the hell have you been? You were supposed to be back hours ago! I thought – with the – with the storm, and then one of the human's ships came through...I thought that something happened.” She said.

Ellis hugged her tighter, hating the way her voice faltered.

“'M alright, Ro. Sorry I worried ya, I just got...caught up with somethin'.”

He wasn't sure whether he should tell her about the man or not. She would probably be angry about it...but then, she would probably be angry if he hid it too. His tail twitched anxiously, and she seemed to pick up on the movement as she leaned back. She nuzzled her face against his and he pressed back, somewhat calmed.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell. I just worry when you disappear like that.” She said, backing away and heading down towards the trench. Ellis followed after her slowly.

“I know...I'm sorry too. I shouldn't'a been gone all day. I heard a ship and I got caught up followin' it and...” he paused, torn between telling her the truth or lying. “I followed it too far and spent the whole rest of the day back trackin'.” He finished guiltily.

Rochelle didn't seem to notice – or, if she did, she simply chalked it up to him feeling bad about worrying her. She just nodded and hummed, slowing briefly so that she could reach out and touch a hand to his face.

Others in the pod found Rochelle's protectiveness to be overbearing (and didn't hesitate in making it known). Ellis couldn't say he really minded; they'd grown up together, and when he was young and surrounded by strangers he'd been grateful for it. He knew he was the closest thing Rochelle would ever have to a sibling, as she was for him, and he knew the behavior came from a place of caring.

Plus, it wasn't like she ever stopped him from doing the things he liked to do. She'd given that up long ago, and now her nagging seemed more out of habit than anything else.

She chatted quietly as they swam into the trench, telling him about how her day had gone. It was nothing out of the ordinary, just hunting as usual, but Ellis was happy to listen. He did find his thoughts occasionally drifting to the man in the cave, but tried to ignore them. He would have to wait until later, when Ellis could sneak out of the trench.

Rochelle left Ellis at the entrance to his cave, once again pressing her cheek to his before she left for her own. He watched her until she was out of sight, then darted inside, heading immediately for the back.

He shifted quickly through the pile of things he'd scavenged from shipwrecks and “borrowed” from the humans. He was more gentle with some things than others, having learned from past experience that a lot of human things were very fragile – anything clear especially so.

He finally found what he was looking for, buried beneath a pile of golden circles. He took a moment to roll one between his fingers, enjoying the way the pattern imprinted on it felt against his fingers. It made a quiet “clink” when he dropped it, and he smiled.

The knife he'd uncovered glinted faintly, reflecting the blue light of his skin. He picked it up carefully, not wishing to cut himself, and turned it over a few times in his palm. The seafolk – when they could get their hands on them – used them for hunting, and occasionally for defending themselves. Ellis rarely did either and as such had very little practice with them.

Truthfully, he would like to learn how to use one properly; he'd always found them to be cool. The pod didn't really trust him with things like hunting, though. It was partly because of his short attention span and penchant for talking, and partly because the glow of his skin oftentimes gave him away.

He resumed searching through the pile, now seeking out something to hide the knife in. He wasn't _technically_ supposed to have it, considering he wasn't a hunter, and being caught with it would probably get him into quite a bit of trouble. He found a small pouch (yet another borrowed item) and tucked the knife into it. He slid it over his shoulder and swam to the entrance of the cave.

There were a few others swimming around outside, although the majority were either asleep or about to be. He swam out slowly, angling up and out of the trench.

He paused when he heard someone call his name and turned around sheepishly. His hands tightened on the strap of the pouch when he saw Leda swimming towards him. Her expression was less than cheerful.

“Where exactly are you going? You were already out for patrol once today – and you were gone much longer than necessary, from what I hear.” She said, giving him a cold once-over.

Ellis averted his gaze, twisting his hands on the strap of the pouch.

“I was headin' to the, uh, docks. Was gonna see if there's anything worthwhile.” The lie came out surprisingly easily, which pleased and troubled him in equal turns.

“I think it's better if you stay in the trench for tonight. You'll need the rest; you're on patrol again tomorrow. And I expect you to stay on track and be back on time.”

She left before he could get a word in edgewise. His shoulders slumped and he headed back for his cave. He wasn't going to disobey or argue; Leda was the pod's matriarch, and going against her would only get him into trouble.

Hopefully the man would be all right until tomorrow. Ellis didn't think humans could starve in a day; seafolk couldn't, and they weren't _that_ different. He didn't think so, at least _._

 

*******

 

Nick was starving. He was starving, and his mouth felt like a desert, and his head and arms hurt even worse than they had yesterday.

He'd somehow managed to fall asleep last night – or maybe “passed out” was a better way to put it. He hadn't intended to sleep; he'd been so paranoid about the siren showing up again he'd fought to stay awake as long as possible. The almost drowning had caught up with him though, apparently.

He groaned as he sat up, noting that the cave was, at least, not pitch black. The sun was filtering in, and although it was dim, he could at least make out his surroundings. There was, unfortunately, no way out. Not unless he swam, anyway, and that would be more than a bit difficult with his hands tied behind his back.

Tugging at the ropes (for what must have been the hundredth time) proved useless. It only served to put him in more pain, and he quickly gave up. Instead, he looked at the ground around him, searching for something to cut himself free. There was nothing, and he knocked his head against the stone behind him, regretting it immediately when the throbbing doubled.

He consoled himself with the fact that his clothes were, at the very least, dry, if not a bit stiff. If – _when_ – he got out of here, he would have to buy new ones. Then he'd have to hire someone to pay Freddie a visit.

He smiled at the thought. It would be expensive, but definitely worth it. Make Freddie watch while he burned the ship to ashes, and then –

A splash interrupted his train of thought, and he jumped. His stomach dropped when he saw a shape swimming just beneath the surface of the water. It looked suspiciously like the siren from yesterday, if the faint glowing was anything to go by.

Sure enough, the thing poked its head out of the water and confirmed that yes, it was the same one from yesterday. Back to torture him with its presence and try to trick him into the water again.

He pressed back against the wall, wishing that it had been a shark instead. At least a shark couldn't drag itself out of the water to attack him. Maybe the thing was too stupid to try it. It _had_ been stupid enough to think it could get him in the water by offering help.

It was at the edge of the platform now, slapping its weird, webbed hand against the stone. Nick glared at it, not moving. That didn't seem to deter it as it reached down beneath the water and grabbed –

A knife. The thing had a fucking knife, and was waving it at him. And smiling.

Since when did sirens use knives? Everything he'd heard involved them singing, or sitting around looking pretty, or sneaking up behind you and grabbing your ankles. Not _stabbing_ or whatever it planned to do with that thing.

It leaned over the edge, pointing the knife at him, and he pressed himself harder into the rock wall behind him. His mind was racing, trying to come up with a way to get out of the situation and coming up blank.

The siren lowered the knife and frowned, backing away from the ledge. It raised the knife again, this time pointing the hilt at Nick.

“Help. Re...lease.” It rasped.

It tossed the knife. Nick watched it skitter across the stone and come to a stop near his feet. He eyed it suspiciously, wondering what exactly the siren was trying to pull. It only stared at him, though, and he cautiously shuffled towards it.

When the knife was within reach he pulled it towards himself with his foot, turning slightly – though not enough to let the siren out of his sight – to pick it up. It only took him a few moments to cut through the ropes and free his hands.

He couldn't help but groan at the relief, rotating each of his shoulders a few times to work out the worst of the pain.

The siren was still staring at him, smiling brightly now, and he wrinkled his nose at it. He held the knife up and wiggled it a bit.

“You're not gettin' this back, if that's what you're thinking." He sneered.

The thing only tilted its head at him, still smiling, seemingly unbothered by his words. It probably had no idea what he'd said, he realized. He huffed and rolled his eyes, settling back into the wall behind him and massaging one of his shoulders.

The siren leaned forward, resting its arms against the lip of the platform. Nick tensed, but it made no other movements. He relaxed, though only slightly, and tried to pretend it wasn't there.

Ignoring it proved to be easier said than done. Despite having his arms free, there was nothing to do in the cave. He spent some time trying to work the soreness out of his arms and back, but eventually he had to accept that only time would completely rid him of the pain.

He glanced at the siren, trying to be discreet, and saw that he – _it_ – was still staring at him. It didn't move beyond occasionally dipping beneath the water. Its smile had faded, and now it looked...contemplative?

A shiver worked its way up his spine; what did it want? He didn't think it was going to try to kill him. It wouldn't have given him the knife if it did. It hadn't bothered to speak again, though, and the staring was starting to creep him out.

He opened his mouth to tell it to knock it off and was interrupted by the growling of his stomach. He grimaced; the siren's arrival had distracted him from his hunger, but it seemed like it was back in full force now.

There was a splash, and Nick looked up to see the siren pulling what looked to be a soaking wet bag out of the water. It turned it over onto the rock. Several dead fish came spilling out, landing wetly against the stone.

The siren pushed them closer to him, smiling eagerly. It pointed to them, then tapped its fingertips against its mouth. As if he didn't know how to eat. He pulled one of the fish towards himself, wincing at the thin film of slime that clung to its scales. He held it up by the tail, examining it in the scant light coming from the cave's entrance.

It was safe to eat, that much he knew. He couldn't remember the name, but he'd seen them before at market stalls. They were one of the cheaper kinds, so he'd never paid too much attention to them.

He turned the fish over in his hands, its dead eyes staring up at him flatly. The siren was watching him expectantly. He set the fish back down and wiped his hands off on his pants.

"I can't eat that."

A series of clicks came from the siren's mouth and it pushed the other fish closer to Nick. He scowled and pinched the bridge of his nose. This whole language barrier thing was getting old fast.

He repeated his earlier statement, slower this time, gesturing between himself and the fish and shaking his head. The siren at least seemed to get it this time, and looked rather crestfallen. Nick felt more than a little disappointed as well. His stomach was aching and he struggled to remember when the last time he'd eaten had been.

Even before he had almost drowned, he'd spent who knew how long in the brig of Freddie's ship. He vaguely remembered someone throwing him moldy bread at some point, but he hadn't been nearly desperate enough to eat it. He was beginning to regret the decision – although, in his defense, he had thought he was going to die, and hadn't wanted his last meal to be a moldy, soggy chunk of bread.

The fish continued to watch him from their pile. The siren was poking and pulling at them, idly arranging them in order of size. Nick's stomach rumbled again and he gritted his teeth. If it weren't for the fact that they were raw and there was no way to cook them, he'd probably have eaten all of them by now.

As it was, the only thing he could do with them was stare. The very thought of trying to explain fire to the siren gave him a headache. An extremely small part of him wished he would have just drowned in the storm; it sounded infinitely preferable to starvation.

His eyes wandered back to the siren, who had backed away from the edge of the platform and was making its way out to the mouth of the cave. Nick threw his hands up, laughing incredulously. If even that thing had given up, he really was going to starve.

It disappeared out the mouth of the cave, its tail breaking the surface briefly to smack hard against the water. Nick grimaced as freezing droplets of water rained down on him. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, just barely resisting the almost-overwhelming urge to punch something.

He was freezing, starving, aching, and trapped in a cave off the coast of God knew where. The only thing he'd had going for him was that the stupid siren had refused to leave him alone, and now even that was gone. He slumped back against the wall, exhausted. He really, truly was going to die in here.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's been "almost finished" for about two weeks now, so...sorry about that. It's been a really stressful month, so between work and doctors visits and family issues, I kept putting off finishing it. I told myself at least monthly updates, though, so I'm glad I at least stuck to that OTL
> 
> I'd also like to say thanks to my boyfriend for proof-reading for me, even though he knows nothing about Left for Dead, and of course, thanks to everyone who commented and left kudos!

When Ellis left the man in the cave he had fully intended to come back that same day. Unfortunately, as was often the case with him, things did not go according to plan. It wasn't his fault this time, though. Not entirely, at least.He headed for the docks, swimming as quickly as he could, the man's reaction replaying in his head. He was confused by it, to say the least. He _knew_ humans could eat the silver fish.

He'd seen fishermen catching them before, and it didn't make sense to catch something you couldn't use.

Maybe he just didn't like the taste? Ellis couldn't blame him, if that were the case; they didn't taste very good. Still, if _he_ was hungry enough he'd eat one, regardless of whether he liked it or not. Maybe humans were different. Admittedly, he didn't know much about them other than what he'd seen at the docks, and while they were on their boats. Even then, most of them chased him off before he could see much.

There had been one man who'd let him stick around, but he hadn't been out on the water for a while now. He slowed a bit at the thought, realizing just how long it had been. He felt a bit guilty for not having realized it sooner, and hoped the man was alright. He resolved to look for him at the docks – maybe he would be able to help the man in the cave, too.

He was so lost in thought that he didn't notice when Rochelle joined him at his side. She didn't slam into him as she had yesterday, but she did reach out to pinch his cheek. He jumped when he felt her hand, jerking away hard before he realized who it was.

“Jeez, Ro! You gotta stop sneakin' up on me like that.” He said with a short laugh, running a hand through his hair in an effort to calm himself.

Rochelle didn't seem to find it as funny as he did and only stared at him coldly.

“You need to pay more attention to what's going on around you. What if I had been a shark?”

“Well I don't think a shark'd pinch me, Ro. What're you even doin' out here? Shouldn't you be back home, or out huntin'?” He asked nervously.

Rochelle's eyes narrowed at his question, and she moved to block his path. Ellis paused, guilt flowing through him prematurely.

“I could ask you the same thing. Isn't this a _little_ far off the route Leda gave you? And last I checked, the caves don't usually get patrolled either.” She said, crossing her arms over her chest.

Ellis blanched, looking anywhere but her face. He struggled to come up with some excuse and drew a blank. He would have just said that he was on his way to the docks, but that wouldn't explain why he'd been at the cave. Plus, there was always a chance that she already knew about the man and was waiting to see if he would lie.

He hadn't even liked lying to her in the first place; he wasn't going to make things worse now that he'd been caught.

“I...well, y'know when there was that storm a couple days ago? Well I heard a boat, so I went to see if it was gonna sink, so we could take whatever was left, y'know? But then this human fell off and-” he shrank a bit at the look she was giving him. “I couldn't just let him die, Ro!”

She sighed and lowered her arms, expression softening. “I guess you couldn't.”

She reached up to press a hand against his cheek, and he leaned into the touch. He was glad she didn't seem to be too upset about him lying. Her hand fell away from his face and reached up to toy with one of her dreads.

“I can't believe you went and got yourself mixed up with a human. I mean, I _can_ , but...Gods, what am I going to do with you.” She said, smiling in a slightly exasperated way.

He chuckled a bit at her words and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. He started to apologize for worrying her when a thought occurred to him.

“Ro – I mean, don't take this the wrong way or nothin', but why were you followin' me anyway?” He asked, brows furrowing.

Her mouth twisted into a guilty frown, and her arms folded over her chest again. She opened her mouth to speak, shut it, then opened it again.

“Leda...asked me to follow you. She said you were acting strange last night, and you came home late. It just isn't like you, so she was...worried.”

Ellis' face fell, one hand tracing over the markings on his arm, crestfallen. It wasn't entirely surprising that Leda had asked someone to follow him – really, he should be glad it was Rochelle and not one of the others.

He couldn't blame her for not fully trusting him. He wasn't _really_ one of them (as many times as Rochelle had assured him otherwise). It made sense that Leda would want to keep an eye on him; she had the entire pod to think about.

It didn't mean that it hurt any less, though.

Rochelle seemed to notice his change in mood and leaned forward to press her cheek to his. “I'm sorry, sweetie. You know it's not that she doesn't trust you, it's just – just-”

“I know, Ro, it's okay.” He said, nuzzling her back.

When they separated it was with a slightly awkward silence. Rochelle looked guilty, and Ellis wanted to reassure her that it was fine, but he knew that nothing he said would really help. After a few moments she turned and began to swim away, off in the direction of the trench. She paused when she noticed he wasn't following and turned back, confused.

“Ellis...?”

He backed away a bit, raising his hands apologetically. “Uh, I was actually headin' for the docks, to get some stuff for the...human.”

Rochelle frowned and shook her head. “Ellis, sweetie, we have to go back. Leda won't be happy if you're late again – I mean, she's already not going to be happy about the human-”

“No!” He exclaimed, rushing to her side an grabbing her arm. “Ro, you can't tell her about him. She won't let me go back an' help him an' – Ro, he'll die unless I help him!”

His desperation seemed to startle her, and she placed a hand over his where it rested on her arm. The gesture did little to sooth him. An unfamiliar sort of panic had settled in his gut at the thought of not being able to see the man again – at just leaving him to die. It wasn't right, and he wouldn't let it happen.

“Okay, okay, I – I won't tell Leda. But you have to find a way to get him to the rest of the humans. Soon. I don't like the idea of lying.”

Ellis wrapped her in a tight hug, his relief almost palpable. “Thank you, Ro. And I will, I promise!”

He heard her sigh quietly next to his ear, but she returned his embrace without hesitation. When she pulled away and headed for the trench, he followed.

“We have to go back, otherwise you'll get in trouble, but you can go see him tomorrow. And I'm coming with you.” She said. Her tone, and the look she gave him from the corner of her eye left no room for disagreement.

He nodded amicably, not minding the idea of Rochelle going with him. She would probably be able to help him think of a way to get the man to land, too. She was much better at planning than he was.

Though, come to think of it, he wasn't sure she'd ever seen a human before. Not a living one, at least. Most of those in the pod hadn't. Despite how close they lived to coast, most everyone made sure to stay well out of the humans paths. It was probably the reason they had been able to stay in the area for as long as they had. Presenting themselves as peaceful meant that the humans had no reason to try and drive them out.

It was also the reason – _one_ of the reasons – Leda wasn't very fond of him. Hanging around the humans as he did, occasionally borrowing from them and talking to them wasn't exactly antagonistic, but it was enough to make her, and the rest of the pod, paranoid.

He couldn't help his curiosity; something about humans had always drawn his attention. Despite their odd appearances and behaviors, he'd only even wanted to learn more about them. Granted, most of them didn't share the same sentiment, and he'd had more things thrown and swung at him than he could could count, but it had never diminished his interest. If anything, it only made his desire to befriend and understand them stronger.

He startled when he felt Rochelle brush against his side, distracting him from his train of thought. He glanced at her questioningly before realizing that they were coming upon the trench. He nodded in silent understanding, knowing without words why she'd sought his attention. He needed to be alert, act normal if – when – Leda approached them.

No one took notice of them as they descended, beyond the usual nods and waves. They reached his alcovewithout incident, and Rochelle bid him a quick and quiet farewell. She had scarcely gone ten feet before Leda appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. Ellis watched as the two swam off together, neither of them sparing him a single glance.

He watched them go, unconcerned. He had full faith in Rochelle, trusted her not to break her word. As for Leda: Her suspicion of him had its basis, and he couldn't hold it against her. He waited until they disappeared from sight to enter his alcove, mind already buzzing with thoughts of the day to come.

 

*******

 

Getting food for the man turned out to be easier said than done. Rochelle's presence only made things harder; she had never been to the docks before, and the noise and bustle of it all made her nervous. She hadn't even wanted to get close at first, arms crossed stubbornly over her chest as she eyes the bottoms of the boats floating overhead. It had taken Ellis a while to convince her that it was safe, but eventually she had acquiesced.

They were beneath one of the docks, Rochelle flinching at every heavy foot fall that penetrated the water. Ellis had long since grown used to the sounds, and he hardly noticed them anymore. Instead, he was focusing on how exactly he was going to get one of the human's food boxes.

They'd already tried several times, which was just making things more difficult. He knew from experience that once one human knew he was hanging around, the others would be told soon after. He'd been driven away from the docks more times than he could count after failed efforts to borrow things he found interesting.

His first attempt at box had been unsuccessful only because it hadn't had any food in it (as far as he could tell). It had only been sharp shiny bits and, in a smaller separate container, worms. Ellis wasn't sure if humans could eat them, but they hadn't looked particularly appetizing, so he'd put the box back and sought out another.

Unfortunately, the human to which the second box belonged had spotted him in the midst of taking it and, as usual, had begun yelling at him. He'd also thrown a few rocks, but Ellis had long since become a pro at dodging them, and had easily ducked out of the way and back beneath the water. Rochelle had been less than impressed at his antics.

He couldn't help but wish that the man had just eaten the fish he'd brought yesterday. Catching them had been no easy task; Ellis wasn't much of a hunter, even on his own when his talking wasn't an issue. His eyesight wasn't the best, even if his reflexes were.

He shook the thought away. There was no use dwelling on things he couldn't change. The man wouldn't eat what Ellis had brought him, so he would simply have to work around it. He looked up, between the planks of the dock, watching as another fisherman shuffled by. If he was going to get anything out of this trip, he had to act fast. The humans had a tendency to warn each other when he was near, which meant he probably only had a few more minutes before they hid their things away.

He looked around, trying to come up with a plan. When Rochelle made an impatient sound, it hit him.

“Oh, oh! I got an idea, Ro! I, uh...don't know if you're gonna like it, though.”

Judging by the way her face twisted as he laid his plan out, she did not like it.

“Absolutely not. I saw them throwing rocks at you! What if they throw them at me too? Or you, again, while you're distracted! We could get hurt.” She said, crossing her arms tightly over her chest.

“Aw, c'mon Ro, it ain't _that_ dangerous. An' the rocks don't even hurt that bad – you probably won't even get hit! They throw real slow.”

The look she gave him was distinctly unconvinced. He surged forward, his voice taking on a pleading note.

“Ro, _please._ This is the only plan I can come up with, and if I don't take him somethin' he'll _die._ ”

Rochelle gave him a long, hard look, seeming almost like she might continue the argument. After a moment, though, she sighed and uncrossed her arms.

“Fine. But if it doesn't work, we'll just have to figure something else out. No human is worth you or me getting hurt for.”

Ellis grinned and pressed his forehead to hers for a brief moment. She returned the motion, he was relieved to note, without any hesitancy. He quickly summarized the plan for her once more, then watched as she cautiously made her way out from under the dock.

She stayed deep in the water, her stomach and tail practically brushing against the soft sand of the bay's floor. The sunlight playing over her scales was cut off abruptly by the shadow of a boat overhead. It rocked slightly in the gentle waves, moored tight to the dock by a long length of rope. Rochelle circled beneath it slowly, watching it with an obvious air of trepidation.

Looking up through the boards of the dock again, he watched at shape of a human passed over. Ellis followed them as they made their way down the dock, moving over to peek his head above the water and over the edge of the dock. He watched as the human carefully stepped onto the boat, flailing their arms a bit to avoid losing their balance.

Ducking underwater, he flashed Rochelle a thumbs up and what he hoped was a reassuring smile. She circled beneath the boat one final time before surging upwards, her tail swinging in large arcs to gather speed. Ellis breached just in time to see her burst from the water.

The human in the boat flinched hard and fell, landing with a loud thump. The boat rocked dangerously, and the human cried out, drawing the attention of the others. As she descended back into the water, Rochelle grasped the edge of the boat. It rocked towards her, the person within sliding forward, just barely managing to grab the edge before the tumbled over into the water.

Other humans came rushing down the dock, shouting and waving their arms, feet pounding loudly against the boards. Ellis took the opportunity to swipe another box, excitement coursing through him when he felt how heavy it was.

Before he could open the box and inspect its contents, he heard a splash at the end of the dock. He looked to see that Rochelle had backed away from the boat, apparently intimidated the amount of humans that had flocked to the other's aid. Some were helping to steady the boat and pull their fellow fisherman out, while others were wielding sticks and rocks, ready to use them against Rochelle if she came any closer.

Ellis set the box down for a moment and waved his arms, relieved when she spotted him and nodded. She disappeared beneath the waves, and he grabbed the box again, carefully holding it aloft as he backed away from the docks. In all the commotion, none of the humans seemed to notice him – or, by the time they did, he was too far away for them to do anything about it.

Unable to go fully beneath the water, for fear of ruining whatever food was (hopefully) inside the box, Ellis had to wait for Rochelle to come to him. He felt her before he saw her, her tail brushing against his as she circled him once before breaching. She looked surprisingly...exhilarated.

“That was – exciting!” She said, laughing almost hysterically. “I mean, it was dangerous, and scary, and we are _never_ doing it again, but -- Gods, it was _exciting._ ”

She laughed again, and Ellis couldn't help but join in. For a moment the two simply sat, laughing together and swaying with the ebb and flow of the sea. When the laughter died out, Rochelle was the first to set off, Ellis following as quickly as the awkward way he had to swim would allow.

 

*******

 

Nick awoke to something cold and slimy pressing against his cheek. He batted at it sleepily, jerking back when his hand landed in a pile of – he opened his eyes – fish. The dead fish the siren had left with him, to be exact. Apparently he'd managed to roll into them last night after he'd fallen asleep. He groaned in disgust and angrily pushed them away, sending a few splashing into the water. They bobbed around in the water, staring at him with accusing dead eyes.

His stomach twisted in a mix of hunger and nausea, and he forced himself to look away. Instead, he turned his eyes to the mouth of the cave, seeing that the sun had risen and was high enough to be out of his line of sight. He wondered how long he'd been out. It had been almost completely dark when he'd passed out last night, cold and huddled against the wall of the cave. Part of him had still been paranoid that the siren was going to come back and attack him while he slept, but eventually he'd been too tired to care.

The second night hadn't been as bad as the first. He hadn't had any nightmares, at least, and his arms hadn't been tied up. It had also been slightly warmer than the first night – not much, but enough that he hadn't felt like his teeth were going to break chattering against one another.

Hauling himself onto his feet, he took a moment to stretch, noting that the pain in his shoulders had faded from a throb to a dull ache. He scowled at the slow, stiff way his shirt moved, tugging at the fabric in agitation. It didn't do much, only dragged the material along his skin in a way that made it itch. He scratched at himself and swore under his breath when the movement only made it worse. He settled for unbuttoning it and throwing it to the side.

He glared at the rigid blue pile; the shirt had been expensive (almost ridiculously so) and one of his favorites. It was probably ruined, now. Even if he survived this ordeal and washed it, it would probably reek like seawater and dead fish forever.

He couldn't help but swear again, then again, and again, kicking out at the fish still left on the ledge. They joined their siblings in the water, and Nick turned his tantrum to the wall instead. He only managed to strike twice before the pain brought him to his senses, and he cradled the now aching appendage to his chest. He slumped against the wall and slid down slowly, breathing heavily, legs splayed out before him.

Flexing his fingers, he noted with relief that nothing was broken. It hurt, yeah, but punching rock would do that.

He sighed and closed his eyes, focusing on returning his breathing back to normal. He needed to stay calm, to think of a way out of this situation. It he wasn't starving – and dying of thirst, now that he thought of it – he might have been content to sit and wait for a boat to pass by. With the way things were, though, that plan wasn't exactly viable. Nor was swimming out of here; he had no idea if he was even close to civilization, and as much as it pained him to admit it, he wasn't a very strong swimmer.

Really, the only feasible option available to him was...the siren. Who had run – or swam – off yesterday and hadn't come back. While he was awake, at least. It could have come while he was sleeping, he supposed, but somehow he felt like it would have left some kind of sign.

As he went over his options (option, really) a splash sounded from the cave's opening. His eyes flew open and immediately spotted the siren – it was hard to miss, really, given the awkward way it was swimming, with its arms high above its head. It was holding some kind of box and, apparently, trying to keep it from getting wet. So caught up in watching the awkward display, Nick didn't notice the slightly smaller shape that swam in behind the siren.

“Speak of the devil and he shall appear.” He mumbled, straightening up and pulling his legs closer to his body.

The box – a tackle box, by the looks of it – clattered against the stone. The siren dipped underwater for a moment before popping back up, grinning enthusiastically. It paused for a moment, eyes focused on his chest as its head tilted slightly to the side. It hummed shortly, as if coming to a sudden realization, and Nick crossed his arms over his bare chest, slightly uncomfortable with the attention it was paying him.

At his movement the siren seemed to remember what it had been doing and suddenly shoved the box towards Nick, smacking his ( _its._ It _was_ an it, he reminded himself) hand against the rock. The sound echoed off the walls of the cave, and Nick scowled, half tempted to reach out and grab its wrist to make it stop.

The image of it dragging him into the water and drowning him made him stop. Instead, he shuffled slowly to the tackle box. The siren stopped its tapping when it saw him coming.

“Yours.” It said, its voice more confident than it had been yesterday.

He rolled his eyes, letting out a half sarcastic thanks as he reached for the box. Surprisingly, the siren seemed to understand, returning to tapping its hand against the stone. It seemed like it was struggling, its face screwed up with concentration.

Nick paused what he was doing, torn between annoyance at the noise and – just a little bit – of amusement. Finally, it found whatever it had been looking for and, excited, its tail rose from the water and came down hard, sending a spray of water through the air.

“Welcome!” It exclaimed loudly. “You're welcome!”

Nick hummed, mildly impressed at its English – it didn't seem to know much, but definitely more than he would have expected.

“Don't strain yourself there, ace.” He said.

This the siren didn't understand, although it didn't seem like it put a damper on its enthusiasm. It ducked beneath the water and Nick turned his attention back to the tackle box, fairly confident now that it wasn't going to attack him.

It was rusty and dented, and the handle appeared to have been torn off long ago. There was a small lock laid into the front, and a quick tug at the lid revealed that it was locked. Nick pinched the bridge of his nose. Chucking the box back into the water was sounding _extremely_ appealing, but if the siren had brought it to him then there had to be something useful inside.

Probably. The thing seemed kind of...air-headed, to put it nicely. He glanced up at it and frowned when he saw it poking at the dead fish floating at the surface of the water. It noticed him watching it and smiled, returning to the edge of the platform and pointing at the tackle box.

“It's locked.” He deadpanned.

The siren gave him a blank look and he sighed. He turned the box until the lock was visible to it, then tugged at the lid. The siren's mouth opened into a small “oh” shape and it nodded. It held up finger briefly before ducking beneath the water.

Nick watched as it sank further into the darkness, only able to keep track of it when its skin began to let off its eerie glow. He thought he saw something darting around the edges of the light, but dismissed it. It was probably a fish, or seaweed, or something. Or maybe he was having hunger-induced hallucinations. The thought made him pause; maybe none of this was real. Maybe he was still tied up in the brig, waiting to be-

The siren broke the surface of the water with a small splash. Nick flinched back from the shower of freezing water that hit him, scowling. If he was imagining all of this, it was very realistic.

The scrape of metal on stone pulled his attention from his thoughts, and he looked down to see that the siren had taken the tackle box from him. Before he could try to take it back, the thing raised its free hand into the air and brought it down hard. Nick jumped at the sound it made, the harsh clanging echoing through the cave as the siren broke the lock open.

It tossed something – a rock, he guessed – over its shoulder before pushing the box back to him. It disappeared beneath the water without waiting for his thanks (not that he would have given them). He took the box begrudgingly and examined the fresh dents and scrapes that covered its front. The lock was barely discernible, just a small, twisted hunk of metal.

He wasn't sure it was even going to open, with the damage that had been done to it, but after a few moments of fiddling he managed to pry the lid upwards. When he spotted the food inside, his relief was almost too strong to process. It was rather short-lived, however, as the siren resurfaced – along with a second, slightly smaller one at its side. He flinched back hard, just barely holding back a yelp. His foot struck the tackle box as he shuffled backwards, sending it clattering towards the edge of the platform.

Nick didn't have time to even think about mourning the loss of his food before the siren was shifting, catching it just as it started to fall over the edge. If his heart hadn't already been hammering, the speed with which the siren moved would have started it.

With the tackle box saved, the siren turned to its – what? Friend? _Accomplice?_ He wasn't sure what to call it, but he sure as shit wasn't going anywhere near the water while they were waiting for him.

And to think the thing had fooled him into believing it wasn't trying to kill him. He cursed himself for trusting it – for _wanting_ to trust it – even a little bit. Of course it wasn't trying to help him. When had anything on this God-forsaken earth genuinely tried to help him?

The thing pushed the tackle box towards him, emitting a high-pitched whine as it glanced between him and the other siren in the water. Nick could just barely see it darting back and forth, a blurry mix of red and brown. The other one sank down to join it, and Nick watched as its frantic pacing slowed until the two sat, stationary beneath the gentle waves.

Nick glared at both of them, trying to cover his fear with anger. He didn't think it would make much of a difference to them, but-

But he did have something that would. He leaned forward, patting at his pockets until he found it; the knife the siren had given him yesterday. He'd almost forgotten about it, given that he hadn't had any use for it. He pulled it out, turning it over in his hands a few times to get a feel for it. It wasn't very large or fancy, just a gut knife that some poor fisherman had dropped overboard one morning. Still, in the right hands – in _his_ hands, it would do some damage. Maybe not enough, but it would at least ensure he wouldn't go down without one hell of a fight.

When the siren came back up, accomplice in tow, Nick's grip on the knife tightened. The new one kept its distance from the ledge, eyeing him warily. With it above the water, he realized that it wasn't a siren, but a mermaid. The knowledge did little to ease his worries. The only major differences between the two were their looks, and that mermaids were more likely to run away than attack you.

He wasn't sure what it meant that the two of them had decided to team up, which only served to make him even more uneasy.

The siren was going back and forth between the ledge and its friend, making its odd little clicks and whistles. It gestured towards him occasionally, and every time it did the mermaid fixed him with a steely glare. He glared back, fighting a childish urge to stick his tongue out at it.

Eventually the siren stopped at the edge of the platform, giving him a look not unlike that of a kicked puppy. It pushed the box even closer to him, stretching as far as it could without coming out of the water. It came to a rest near his feet.

The petulant, angry part of him wanted to kick it away again – the part of him that was starving, though, pulled it closer. He opened it, stomach rumbling at the sight of the food within. It wasn't much, an apple, a hunk of bread, and a glass bottle he assumed – _hoped –_ was full of milk. There were also hooks and fishing lures and an assortment of other fishing supplies off to the side, but he dismissed them as useless for now.

He wanted to eat, but – he glared over at the siren and mermaid. They were both watching him, one looking hopeful, the other angry and mistrusting. Nick stared both of them down, taking some small gratification in the fact that they looked away first.

The mermaid drew closer to the siren, leaning in to whisper to it. Nick scoffed; they could be screaming at each other and he still wouldn't be able to understand a word of it. He watched as they whispered back and forth, slightly annoyed by the secrecy.

After a few moments of back and forth between the two, the siren shot him a dejected look. The mermaid swam backwards, towards the entrance, tugging at the siren's arm. It followed after, albeit slowly, eyes locked with Nick's far longer than was comfortable.

He told himself that the uncomfortable feeling in his stomach was definitely _not_ guilt.

 


End file.
